The Awakened
by XxniamhxX20
Summary: Post Reichenbach- Moriarty is back to destroy everything but will Sherlock save John or not?  All reviews welcome! x
1. Chapter 1 What You Left

The Awakened

Chapter 1 – What You Left

You were never ordinary, thought John whilst sitting on the floor leaning against the door outside the tightly shut door of Sherlock's bedroom. He laughed half-heartedly to himself about the sarcastic comment that Sherlock would have said by now. No, you were never ordinary, he carried on, you were always so… extraordinary. You made the people around extraordinary as well. That's why so many people never liked you, because of how you made them feel.

John paused In thinking and rubbed his hands down his face as if taking off the mask of bravery he had been wearing and let out all the pain, That's why I stayed you know, because of how you made me feel, it was as if you had brought me back to life.

He was wrenched out of his thoughts by Mrs Hudson shutting the front door. He silently got up and touched the door. As he had done for the past two weeks on the same spot. The 2 weeks since the accident.

As he walked into the living room he saw Mrs Hudson quickly clearing away the untouched breakfast she had made for him that morning.

He glanced at the newspaper headline as he sat down at the desk. "Have you seen this"? He asked her in anger. "Seen what love" She asked with a sigh, washing up various cups and plates that had been left in the kitchen sink. "The newspaper, their still going on about it, how Moriarty was all a fake and that Richard Brook is the bloody victim in all this" he said sarcastically whilst throwing the newspaper into the bin.

"Victim, they want to know who the victim was!" He shouted suddenly, Jumping out of his chair in anger and storming to the window to look out. As he stood there he looked out at all the normal people, walking along in their normal lives and just for a second John felt jealous, jealous of them and how they had no idea what life could bring you. It passed as sudden as it had come and he went back to feeling angry.

"Yes dear, I know but there's nothing we can do, just let them do what they want and it will pass." She said soothingly whilst looking across the room at him with worry in her eyes. "Maybe you'd like to go out, get some fresh air? You could maybe go and see that friend of yours at the hospital. Millie, Molly. Oh I'm terrible with names!" She muttered as she passed him on her way downstairs.

"You know what, that's not a bad idea, and it would be nice to see another friendly face. Yes Mrs Hudson I will go and see her." He said grabbing his jacket and heading out the door. "Good for you, I'll leave you some food in the fridge!" she shouted after him.

This is perfect, he thought, it will give me the chance to sort out all the medical papers and death certificate. This was when he stopped as he realized he had started thinking about sorting things out when all he wanted to do was remember, He zipped up his jacket and opened the door. As he stepped out the door a taxi went past, he hailed it and stepped in, as he sat down he told the Driver to take him to St. Bart's Hospital.


	2. Chapter 2 Old wounds

The Awakened

Chapter 2 – Old wounds

As John was driven through London's busy, fume filled streets he thought of all the times he and Sherlock had ridden in taxis. Usually in the thrill of a chase or going to the newest crime scene where Sherlock was needed for his undeniable genius and he was just accepted as the blogger.

Thinking about this John had to start to hold back tears as a tightness in his throat made it hard for him to swallow. Stop it, he thought, you're in public people can see you. That was the problem he didn't care, people could see him crying and he wouldn't care, he was mourning the loss of his companion, his detective, his friend…his best friend, his only real friend.

He thought of how he was being silly, he had other friends but now Sherlock was gone he had realised they never really meant anything to him as Sherlock had.

He knew he wasn't the only who missed him. Mrs Hudson, Greg, Mycroft. Even though they would never talk about it with him, knowing it would send him over the edge, he knew that they missed him, but he also knew that they would never miss him as much as he did. Every day he felt the same, as if part of him had been hollowed out and nothing had been put in to fill the gaping hole that had been left.

John was torn out of his thoughts as the deep voice of the taxi driver asked for the money needed for the journey. Blinking back the tears which had formed in his eyes John handed over the money stepping out the taxi and thanked the driver with a cracked voice.

As John looked up at the building opposite the hospital he ran his hands down his face wiping away any stray tears and calming himself down. He turned receding back into his military ways as he always did when his emotions got too much for him.

Walking across the street he couldn't help but let his eyes move up to the roof of St. Bart's where he had watched Sherlock fall from just 2 weeks ago. He let his eyes follow the path Sherlock made falling through the air and landing on the ground. As his eyes met the pavement he stopped, his entire body froze. He couldn't do this; he closed his eyes taking a shaky breath. He knew he had to keep moving, to get out the road but he couldn't make his feet work. He knew that moving would mean going onto that pavement. The pavement where Sherlock had…No he wouldn't think it. It wasn't true, he couldn't think it. Sherlock wasn't dead; someone with his great mind wouldn't do something like that.

He gritted his teeth, clenched his fists tightly as he took a step forward. See not that hard come on keep going he thought. He took a few more painfully slow steps almost reaching the pavement. He closed his eyes not looking at the place where Sherlock's body had been, he stepped onto it rushing over to the building. He reached the wall sliding down it and putting his head in his hands.

He stayed like that for about 5 minutes before slowly raising his head, luckily no one was around. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair still not looking at that place. He achingly stood up, his legs burning from staying still in that position. He lent against the wall breathing deeply for a moment before he stiffly started walking inside, turning his back on the spot where Sherlock had been, where he had been broken and never put back together.

As John started making his way to the morgue to find Molly he thought over what had just happened. It wasn't right. He knew that he hadn't been coping well but he never thought coming back here would be this bad. He wasn't well and he knew it.


End file.
